Teaching English, la muerte por fútbol, National Stadium

I am teaching English to two classes of 16- and 17-year-old girls and one of 8-year-olds at an inner-city public school in Santiago. Friday was my first day, but even on Friday I didn't know what was going to happen. Literally all I knew was the school's address and that I was going there because I speak English. And I knew the first two questions I would be asked (if it happened to be a girl's school) because the program coordinator told us that it's always the same: Do you have a girlfriend? And do you have Facebook. My "friends" on Facebook are multiplying daily and I'm getting these strange friend/ chat requests that I didn't even know existed from I-don't-know-who.

The first profesora stood next to me in the classroom trying ineffectively to round up the student's attention. Ha, she wasn't very forceful I suppose. As long as I kept doing things the students would pay relative attention, but as soon as I paused - off the races, or whatever. Much more rambunctious than students at schools I attended. Climbing on tables and each other and singing and dancing (the 16 and 17s). Basically clubbing. The second class was better (even though the teacher disappeared after a few minutes) because I didn't stop (and because it was more advanced so they spoke more english).

Lessons: don't stop - mouth diarrhea is good. And ways of communicating beyond words are even better. Use multiple forms: visuals, audio, and especially kinesthetic media.

For next week I am preparing a song to sing with the 8 year olds. I'm thinking about deep in the heart of texas, ha, because it includes clapping and the state I come from.


Futbol.
After teaching, I went to campus for my usual futbol class and a makeup one from the week before. I nearly died (3 hours in borrowed cleats). Even today I barely escaped a car when I tried to cross the street without a crosswalk. Apparently, running isn't something my legs do anymore.

So today I caved and went to a liquidation sale and bought cleats and socks. No more blisters (although pain is a great way to learn vocabulary. You don't forget the word for blisters - ampollas - when doing so means you can't tell anyone why you look so agonized. No actually, I used said I have "skin bubbles", which worked quite well, for laughter).

Yesterday, Saturday, I went to the National Stadium to see the two top teams (not debatable!) in Chile play - La Catolica y Colo Colo. La catolica is known for being preppy and Colo Colo for being violent, trashy, etc. (lots of class-ranking by which team you like). I went with a friend from my futbol class and 15 of his friends. Ha, farely different from a game in the US. Much more passionate. The stadium is filled with fully (FULLY!) armored police guards. Colo Colo enters in one side of the stadium and la catolica in the other. After the game (which we won, 2-1, of course), one side has to leave completely before the other side is allowed to (so we waited about 30 minutes). Their bleachers were on fire! and fans carrying other fans out of the stadium for one reason or another (or one reason, which is alcohol). Fights of course. But that's why I went with 15 people. And all the stores in the city close down for the day when there is a big match like that because the fans coming through the city destroy everything in their path. The buses are crazy (and you can't take certain ones because they have certain loyalties and are dangerous...). The game was amazing! I love soccer.

Snowboarding/ falling at Farellones in the Andes

On Friday I went snowboarding for the first - and possibly last - time. By the end of the day I could snowboard down the run (which means get to the bottom without falling, regardless of pace). But the LIFT! That thing was hell. The type with just a crossbar that you hang on to, and that you try to continue holding on to after you fall and it drags you, your nose grooving tracks in the snow, until your armpits give out. You do your best to roll out of the way before the skier behind you puts a pole in your back. Then you have to trek up the mountain on foot, and by the time you reach the top, the last thing you want to do is try it again. At least that was my experience every time up the Mountain. The only time I didn't fall on the lift was when an instructor was basically hugging me. More comforting than the snow anyway.

No actually in retrospect I think it was fun. My body still hurts, but it's supposed to right? That's the sign of a good time. It snowed four days in the mountains last week, so the snow was perfect. (Not that that matters to me. That's like telling me "This is a really nice fruity wine, goes well with pork." That means nothing.)

Anyway, here's to a day of insufferable enjoyment.


People who Vivi met on the slopes. They can actually ski and look like it too, so I figured I'd add the photo for authenticity.


Me and Cristian. His pose: delight. Mine: contorted to accommodate full-body pain.


Cristian and Vivi. We're trying to teach him how to smile, but apparently it's hopeless.

Avenida Pedro de Valdivia

I live on the corner of Pedro de Valdivia and Av Sucre. These photos are taken on the walk north up the avenue on the way to a friend's apartment. It's one of the most affluent neighborhoods in Santiago. In the 20s (I believe?), maybe into the 50s?, it was THE neighborhood for the socialites/ people with political punch. They built huge houses, all of which are oddly even and square, and then couldn't afford to maintain them as property prices shot up. SO they moved farther away from the center of town. SO the street is still lined with these really large houses, which are now either divided into apartments, or are businesses or government-type buildings. The street is lined with white peeling sycamores and maintains its blunted shiny cobblestone from years past. There is a great park with a bridge about 15 or 20 blocks from my house. It was a fairly clear day due to the rain all yesterday. I was hoping the mountains would be even more visible, but there were clouds. You can, however, still see the fresh caps of snow.

It has rained for the last 24 hours straight, which is not only impressive but also good for my school career (though bad for the concert I wanted to go to). I think they read more here than we do, at least at UT. Or at least more is assigned. I have a test on Tuesday, which I just discovered yesterday, over 500 pages, which are not part of the content/ readings we have been doing for class. So I should have been reading those instead of everything else I figured the test would cover and which we have been discussing in class. Maybe it's more daunting because my pages are spotted red with all my circles (which I mean, "don't know this word; don't have time to look it up").

Oh yes, and for you Ryan: pictures of yogurt bags. It's funny because today at lunch my host dad was commenting on how strange it is in the US that we have these GIANT hard plastic containers of the stuff.

Words that sound like gringo fabrications but are actually legitimate Spanish

Hermanar - (hermano - brother) to unite, twin (American friends "created" this verb unknowingly to mean, "to bro around", as in "be fratty"

solucionar - to solve

guitarrear - to play the guitar

posibilitar - to make possible

secretear - to whisper/ make a secret

dificultar - to make difficult

telefonear - to telephone/ call

Cognates: common Spanish, rarefied English

For language nerds: I'm always running into words in Spanish that share sound/ appearance/ root with English words and which are used commonly in Spanish but not in English. Thanks Latin.

cotidiano/a - quotidian (we say daily)
exigente - exigent (demanding)
distinto/a - distinct (different)
ceder - to cede (we say give up) (on the buses a sign says: cédalo su asiento a personas descapicatadas... Cede your seat to people with disabilities...)
desplazar - displace (move) (train stations say: desplázate a lo largo del andén... displace yourself down/ to the end of the platform)
realizar - to realize (we say to make, come to be, fulfill)
acompañar - to accompany (we say to go with)
amplio/a - ample (we say roomy, comprehensive)

Dairy

The yoghurt (this word kills me in Spanish: "jyogur", but it's very hard to say for some reason, probably because it's too close to the English word) comes in plastic pouches or sacks or bags or something. Imagine a giant bloated capri sun filled with raspberry sweet goo.

The milk doesn't get refrigerated. It's that super-heated stuff that lasts forever and sits on your kitchen table in a blue cardboard carton.

Butter appears normal.

Cheese is white and comes in big sliced blocks. Ham and cheese, ham and cheese, ham and cheese. Ham and cheese.

Ice cream is really good. Arrives in oval plastic Tupperwares.

Have yet to spot cream cheese.

Dried grapes

Chile has the best black raisins I've ever tasted. The golden ones I like not so much. The black ones are mmmm.

More Chillan

Around the house

The kitchen, very important.


The gate and street in front of the house and a borrowed truck.


Front of the house.


A living room.


A patio out back, which is right next to my room and loaded with furniture from their various renovation projects. They buy, cleanup, and sell properties.


My room. Papers.


4 cells, of which I am the proud owner.


And the family: L to R: Jose (boyfriend/ pololo of la Polin), la Polin ("Pollo", 22-year-old sister), Cristian ("Pollito", 14-year-old brother), la Vivi (19 year-old sister, sans nickname), Juan (father), Cecilia (mama), la nicol (25-year-old sister).